Tattoo
by WarmTea
Summary: She doesn’t have to be under the influence to have some fun. SJ.


Title: Tattoo  
Author: WarmTea  
Rating: Mature  
Summary: She doesn't have to be under the influence to have some fun.  
Classification: Humor, S/J  
Season: Mid-series I guess  
Disclaimer: I'm not taking credit for pissing everyone off… show belongs to those clears throat, well to those who own the contract.  
A/N: This little bit came to me from a series of entertaining conversations with my co-workers revolving around my new tattoo.  
First fic I've written in a long time. Been plot-less and brain dead for months now at the intelligence level of my preschoolers.  
**Reviews, criticism constructive or otherwise, are always appreciated. **

- - - -

"How drunk were you?"

"I wasn't drunk Daniel," she mumbled, capping the small tube before dropping it into her pocket.

"Then what were you thinking!" He exclaimed, stepping closer to examine the small marking.

"It was something reckless, something disorganized, something completely out of character on a scale small enough that no one would notice. It's for me, not for anyone else," she declared. The arm that held her leg propped against her makeshift chair dropping to push herself from the small boulder.

Gathering her pack, she brushed the thin layer of dust from the canvas as she slung the large bag onto her slim shoulders. "We better get moving, Teal'c and the Colonel will be waiting."

"You shouldn't put that much weight on it. The friction of the strap and vest against your shirt will irritate the…" Daniel paused, the zipper catching a thread of his shirt as he pulled the small piece of metal roughly.

Vaguely amused, she watched her friend struggle with the small piece of material for a moment before moving to help him.

Pushing his fingers out of the way, Sam swiftly slid the trapped cloth from the clasp. Letting go of his shirt, a soft laugh escaped as he stumbled. Her humor faded quickly as the lumbering man tripped over the rock she had claimed as her seat, falling unceremoniously to the ground with a loud thump and audible crack.

A small cloud of dirt and gravel arose around her fallen comrade.

"Daniel," she called immediately, side stepping the hazard as she released the pack, allowing it to slide down her arms to the ground. She hissed in pain, the rough material pressing into the tender skin.

Dropping to his side, Sam's eyes swept over him, examining for injuries. "Are you okay?" she asked apprehensively, guilt consuming her for his pain.

"Fu… uh.. innnneeee," he sneezed, throwing his forearm over his face, a small cloud of dust puffing from the filthy jacket to surround his face.

Reaching for his arms, she pat along his arms and legs, checking for breaks to assure herself as he sneezed again. Continuing her examination, she barely heard the radio crackle, ignoring the sound until a familiar voice boomed through the small speaker attached to her vest.

"Carter, Daniel where are ya?"

Concern creasing her brow, she stared at Daniel for another moment before raising her hand to the radio. "About half a kilometer east of the gate, Daniel had a… accident, just gathering our things before we head back sir."

"You both okay Carter? Need any help?" Jack responded, worry lacing his voice.

Sam looked over her friend, staring in question until she saw a nod assurance. "Fine sir," she responded a bit more clip than she would have preferred. "We'll be there in ten Colonel," she finished softer, grasping the rock to lever herself from the ground.

Helping him to his feet, Sam steadied herself before lifting her pack again to her shoulders.

"You know, the word 'tattoo' is traced to the Samoan word _tatau_, meaning to mark or strike twice…" Daniel started, the lecture continuing the rest of their short trek to the gate. "…and tattooing has been a Eurasian practice since Neolithic times. 'Ötzi the Iceman', dated circa 3300 BC, exhibits possible therapeutic tattoos, small parallel dashes along lumbar and on the legs."

"Okay Daniel," Sam interrupted her friend as they neared the rest of their team. "This stays between us," she ordered, almost regretting the small design that now adorned a small bit of her abdomen. The need to moisturize it had lead to the entire situation.

She had tried in vain to stealthy slide her hand up her shirt to rub the lotion. The look of confusion on the archeologists face had been priceless, though the following explanation she had given not as entertaining.

"Jack is eventually going to find out," Daniel replied softly.

"Unless he finds himself under my shirt and bra he won't…" Sam blushed, wanting to swallow the words her friend had drawn from her.

"Ha, like its going to be _that_ long," Daniel mumbled, lifting his hand to his glasses, pausing to remove the remaining dust.

TBC...


End file.
